


Burlesque Essence

by Grey_alltheway



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Décalcomanie era, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grey_alltheway/pseuds/Grey_alltheway
Summary: Hwasa is a performer at a burlesque club, one which attracted Wheein on a rainy evening with its inviting aspect. What she sees inside will leave her with more than a lasting impression.





	Burlesque Essence

**Author's Note:**

> With their comeback ahead, I wanted to post something with my favourite girls in the k-pop industry. I know this one doesn't include Yongsun and Byul as well, but after watching "Burlesque", I couldn't help but see Hwasa as one of the performers. As charming and alluring as she is on stage, that's exactly as I saw her in this alternative universe. I hope you enjoy!

It was long past 11 pm. Wheein seemed to be getting lost on the endless streets, walking mindlessly along the wet pavements, through thick crowds of people. At the presumably late hour, the streets were still full of people, people holding hands, laughing and telling stories loudly. 

She went out for a mere walk, but it turned out to be more when she couldn’t seem to talk herself into taking the bus home. She was alone, but that didn’t seem to matter. It had rained for a few minutes, but that didn’t stop her either. For some reason, home wasn’t something that was calling Wheein at the moment. The streets, the lights, every opened door which led to a bar, a club or a boutique seemed way too welcoming to be left alone so soon. 

Matter of a fact, there was a certain entry that seemed incredibly inviting. On a ramified street from the main road, something shiny distracted her attention. It was a smaller street, but after a few meters it opened up, leading to the entrance of what looked like another club. Except this didn’t look like another small, almost meaningless bar. 

The building had brick walls, showing off in a rather elegant fashion. The wide doors were decorated with pink, brightly shining light bulbs. The building imposed sort of a grandeur which attracted Wheein. 

The sign above the entrance simply read “Burlesque”. 

Wheein felt intrigued. The building didn’t give off any other signs of what might have been going on inside the brick walls and the bold lights, but the mystery is what drew her. That was, she figured, the reason why they kept the exterior of the building so simple; to draw attraction. 

When she entered, she was met with half of her expectances. It looked, indeed, elegant and lavishing, but it wasn’t of any grandness. The door through which she entered seemed to lead to what was actually the first and only floor. As she looked down over the handrail, she noticed a wide stage in height and depth. 

A number of underdressed girls were performing on the stage, in a sea of colorful lights. They were half dancing, half singing. Although, Wheein could tell, that was no singing. They were obviously lip-sinking. The attraction lay in their dancing; it wasn’t some energetic gathering of complex movements. It was a choreography, but it consisted mainly in moves executed sexily, hips swaying, extended hands snapping fingers with a fierce power, heads held up high in confidence for what they were doing and smirks painting every performers daring expressions. 

“Well now, that was a sneak peek, young lady,” a voice suddenly spoke, and Wheein turned to its owner. A man to her right was sitting behind a glass window, a sassy expression shamelessly smirking back at Wheein. 

The man had such an interesting look, for Wheein’s perception. He had eye liner contouring his eyes and a hat placed sideways on his head, leaving his wild, curly bangs to cover his forehead. To some it would be strange, but to Wheein it only looked fitting, especially in this place. 

“If you want to see more, you will have to pay,” he told her, without dropping his cryptic expression. He leaned in closer, as close as the glass would permit, saying, “And believe me, _there is much more you’ll want to see_.” 

“How much?” Wheein asked after a few seconds’ thinking and the man pushed the corners of his mouth back into that initial smirk. That attitude would only warm up Wheein for what was to see next. 

This was unlike Wheein. She never entered such clubs, let alone go unaccompanied. The attitude this man had, it used to intimidate her. And yet, being here, in this setting and surrounded by strangely fascinating people, the hesitancy she once posed seemed to fade away. Something was undoubtedly attracting her. 

After paying, she descended a flight of stairs and walked to the bar, passing through groups of people chatting and holding their drinks, waitresses hurrying to get to tables, trays handled professionally over people’s heads. There were tables in front of the stage, several of them, all of their occupants watching now a different performer on stage; a girl with long, curly red hair was wearing even less clothes than the ones before her, but nothing in her expression, or in the way she moved, emitted insecurity. Quite the opposite, actually. 

“What can I get you, miss?” asked the bartender, a young man wearing a hat just like the one the man at the entrance wore. 

“Just a beer, please,” Wheein said, immediately regretting her order. A beer? At 11 pm? What was she, her father? 

The bartender seemed to be thinking the same. He looked at her with a little disbelief. “Are you sure I can’t get you something more… engaging?” He quirked his eyebrow as he said that last part. 

She thought about it for a second, then smiled, a little less shyly than she did at the cashier man. “Surprise me.” 

As he prepared her drink, he asked her, “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” 

“Is it that obvious?” she asked and let out a nervous laugh. Too nervous for that atmosphere, at least. 

“You look pretty scared to be here. Like you don’t belong,” he noticed. His figure didn’t tell anything out of the ordinary; his arms were shaped by muscles, his face bore an artistically shaved beard, but his eyes were also evidenced by the eyeliner; Wheein really started seeing the charm in that look. 

“Well, you’re right,” she admitted. “I don’t really belong here.” 

He smiled. Setting her drink in front of her, something that looked like a cocktail, he leaned in a little, and said, “Anybody can belong here. Turn around, and you’ll see why.” 

A few seconds after she set her gaze on the dark, empty stage, lights were shined brightly and they revealed another girl, sitting on a chair, her back to the crowd. Her posture was straightened, her right elbow settled on the backrest. 

It was a little hard to tell how she looked like, obviously, but Wheein noticed she was wearing a black, glittered corset, fishnet stockings and tall, black laced boots. The glitter might have thrown some people off, but it just made her shine more, without bearing any excessive feeling to it. 

The band started playing. Well, the drummer did. As he hit he cymbal rhythmically, the woman extended her left hand, starting to snap her fingers with the rhythm. Even from a further distance Wheein could see the long, polished nails in a dark purple. 

The mystery of who this woman was and how she looked like, what aces she had she had under her sleeve, it seemed to drive everyone insane in expectancy, not just Wheein. People propped their elbows on the table, straightening up in their chair, setting their drinks down, as if they knew something big was about to come. 

And it did. 

As the other instruments started pitching in, she started turning in her chair through certain regular movements. First, her legs parted, settling on either sides of the chair. Then, her head turned to the side, and Wheein felt like she saw enough already to be impressed. The woman bore bright dark lipstick, the shade similar, if not identical to the one on her nails. Her eyes were also evidenced by black, but it went deeper than just some simple eyeliner. She had dark violet eye shadow, matching her look. Her hair was short, a little over her bare shoulders. The wine purple strands were curled almost perfectly. 

Spinning, she now sat sideways completely, but her eyes were still glued to the floor; and yet that wasn’t a sign on insecurity. Not at all. It was still growing the expectancy. 

On the next sound of cymbals, her head snapped to face the crowd, staring directly in front. Everybody reacted somehow; they either gasped or, like Wheein, grabbed hold of their arm harder; and for good reasons, as she seemed to be staring deeply in everyone’s soul. 

Everything from there on seemed like a fantasy; for the rest of the performance, Wheein was transcended into another world, completely forgetting anything besides the woman on stage. 

This mysterious woman in front of her managed to attain all of her attention, something no one managed to do lately. 

As she previously noticed when she entered, the choreography wasn’t something specular in movement. It didn’t show complexity in steps, or like a lot of thinking was put into creating them. 

But then and there she learned everything about execution. 

After turning her head to face the audience, the young woman stood up in almost an instant, on the next cymbal sound. She was standing firmly on her two glorious legs, her hand still holding the back of the chair, her other hand resting on her hip, but she was otherwise still as a post. For a few seconds, nothing in her body moved, nothing flinched. She didn’t even blink. As if giving the audience time to admire her, she seemed to be a statue for a few moments. 

Oh, and how did Wheein admire her… 

Her eyes roamed all over her body, admitting how every aspect in her appearance played a part. The hair and make-up were perfectly done, something Wheein never accomplished to that extent. The outfit fit her like a glove. Her skin was tanned, giving her a naturally beautiful look. And then, as her eyes rested on her generous thighs, she realized she’d never seen such legs before. And as she stood there, clearly aware of her complexity, she was yet exuding confidence and pride. 

She started her number, but her execution was so powerful and compelling that Wheein could barely keep up with it. She felt like wanting- or better yet, needing- to watch every single movement again, just to see how well it was executed. Every flick of her hand, every hip swing and every head turn moved Wheein so much that she forgot she had to breathe. 

The woman on stage knew what she was doing. She moved around with so much confidence, Wheein was sure all of this was natural for her. Now she understood the meaning of belonging somewhere. She belonged on that stage, and no one could or would dare to take it away from her. 

As a dancer herself, Wheein was especially impressed by her technique. She didn't expect to find such execution in a night club. There was something more than every bend or split. The clarity in motion was nuanced with by the curving of her body as she followed the music. She was secure on her moves, always thinking ahead, but never forgetting to fill every moment with a certain emotion. 

Her attitude… her attitude was out of this world. She never once forgot to control her expression, to leave her face bare of any emotion. Her sex appeal had been clear from the beginning, but as the performance unfolded, she showed the ecstasy that ran through her veins, filling the stage with sensuality. 

Wheein thought the dancing would be the only thing the woman would show that night, but… not even close. 

Apparently, for half a minute she danced, making high use of that chair, but it was only the introductory part. Because when she raised her hand in the air, her finger pointed to the ceiling, her legs retreated together and everything stood still once again. The band fell silent, the lights went out except for a circular one shining on her. 

Wheein’s breathing once again seized. 

Alone, without any background music, she went into a warming-up note; barely audible, it was a murmur, executed with her eyes closed, and yet still full of passion. Then, growing gradually, her voice filled the room’s air. It was one of the strongest, most secure voices Wheein had ever heard. 

And it began again. Music, lights, movements, full-on singing filled Wheein’s attention. She felt like she could never describe what she saw; she felt like she could never put into words the show she had just witnessed, that she could never replay those exact feelings. The woman now had something Wheein could never experience again. 

She was in awe as she continued to watch and to listen intently. And she still marveled at how she aced every single move and every single note, how she combined both without messing up once. Furthermore, how she managed both while walking and spinning around in those 12 cm high heeled boots. 

Continuing to sing, she now made a different kind of contact with the audience, smiling and gazing at them, purposefully leaving them wanting more. A brush over her breasts, a hand caressing her legs, her head thrown back, they all intensified the performance. At one point Wheein could swear the alluring woman actually made eye contact with her, but she was too taken aback to comprehend that. 

Her voice was bold, rupturing the atmosphere, piercing through emotions in the best way possible. 

_I tease ‘em ‘till they’re on the edge…_

Wheein felt her throat drier than before after hearing that particular line. _You better believe you do_ , she thought, clenching her jaw unconsciously. 

Perhaps too soon for Wheein, the performance came to an end. After remaining in her final pose while receiving the audience’s thunderous applause, she straightened and bowed respectfully, thanking them. 

Wheein still started at the stage long after the woman left behind the curtains, without realizing. 

“Well?” a voice behind her brought her back. 

She spun around, her braided hair whisking too. The bartender was looking at her expectantly. 

“Who was that woman?” she asked, having a burning desire to know. 

The young man smiled. “That was Hwasa; one of our best girls around here.” 

“One of them? I haven’t seen the others, but I doubt any of them can impress me the way she did,” she firmly said. 

He laughed, and leaned it. “I’m not supposed to say it, but me neither. Did you see the way the crowd tensed up when the lights shined and she was revealed?” Wheein nodded, vividly remembering the moment. “Everybody loves her, and everybody who comes here knows her.” 

“I can see why; she greater than anyone I’ve seen. I’m really just…” 

“Speechless?” 

Wheein nodded. “Speechless.” 

Throughout the rest of the evening, she remained seated, somehow hoping she could see this Hwasa up there again. But reality was unfair, and everyone performed only once. Not long after Hwasa did, the evening ended and the club was starting to close. 

Wheein started bonding with the bartender, talking to him whenever he wasn’t taking care of other customers. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave soon; well, we all do, we’re closing,” he told her later. 

“Right, right,” she said and started gathering herself, finding she sort of dreaded doing so. 

She had been so amazed by Hwasa that she was left with a need for more. A desire, for more. 

“Oh, though I do believe you might be wanting to hang out here for a few more minutes,” he suddenly told her as he was subtly looking behind her. Before she could ask anything, he added, “Don’t turn, but Miss Ahn Hyejin is coming this way. Forgot to add she always has a drink at the end of her program.” He was cleaning a glass, and added quickly, “That’s Hwasa, by the way.” 

Widening her eyes, Wheein felt her heart starting to pound faster, making it hard to control her breathing. She figured it was too late to stand up and leave now; it would be rude, and she wasn't rude. 

Before she could what else she could possibly do, a figure appeared on her left, setting her bag on the counter with a loud thud. “Ah, Joon, that went terribly.” 

As she sat down on the chair next to Wheein, she felt a sweet scent reaching her senses. Wheein kept her head down, her eyes staring into the bottom of her glass, while Hwasa started telling the bartender- Joon, apparently-, why she felt her performance didn’t agree with her. 

“What do you meant that was terrible?” he asked, sounding quite outraged. 

“I felt completely insecure in those boots, I think they were too small for me. And we have got to change that chair,” she said, as Joon put her drink in front of her, coincidentally the same as the one Wheein drank. 

“None of your inconveniences were visible, you performed incredibly,” he told her and when he received a disbelieving expression, he added, “Oh, you don’t trust me anymore? Ask this one over here then. She was enthralled by you.” 

Wheein suddenly looked up at Joon, her eyes swearing she’d get revenge on him for mentioning her. She hoped she could stay invisible until Hwasa left. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m being completely rude; I’m Hwasa, I performed earlier,” she said and Wheein looked at her, still rather speechless. Her voice while talking was even more captivating, her words slipping from her tongue like honey. 

But Wheein seemed to regain control over her senses, even with Hwasa staring into her eyes, a look of curiosity and interest. “I’m… Jung Wheein. I… I must admit it’s my first time seeing you, but I was completely speechless by the end of your performance. You’ve put up a show like I’ve never seen before.” 

Hwasa tilted her head, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “That’s so kind of you to say…” 

“But I’m serious,” Wheein said and chuckled. “I sing and dance myself, so if there was any fault in your performance I would have picked it up. Though I was a little struck by your passion and confidence, I truly didn’t notice any mistakes. I assure you, you were… perfect.” 

Hwasa laughed and her face turned into this beautiful, innocent expression that bore no similarity to the one she posed on stage. Her eyes smiled at Wheein, emitting unusual purity. 

“Though I strive to it, there is no such thing as perfection. But… thank you, Wheein. This kind of feedback is rarer. Generally, it’s among the lines of hot and sexy, a turn-on, or a wild behaviour, so what you’re telling me is quite refreshing.” 

Wheein smiled, though she was more withdrawn. Her insides seemed to be clutching; she looked down. 

She noticed Joon had left them, on to deal with some business behind the counter. 

Suddenly, the atmosphere between them became awkward, as she perceived it. Yet, Hwasa seemed to not share her thoughts. For she continued to look at Wheein, even if the other girl wouldn’t hold their gaze. She was afraid of what a few more, longer moments staring into those eyes could lead her to do. She wasn’t going to be trespassing any lines with this woman. 

“Well, then, Wheein,” Hwasa finally said, as she downed the last of her drink, and Wheein finally looked at her, “I certainly hope I’ll be seeing you around again.” 

With a final smile at her, which resembled more of what she saw on stage rather than what she had seen earlier, Ahn Hyejin took her bag and walked out of the room in the same confident manner that characterized her most wonderfully. 

-.-.-.- 

The next evening, a starry Saturday night, Wheein didn’t hesitate when she put on some more… daring clothes and walked out of her apartment around 10 pm, aiming for the burlesque experience yet again. 

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn’t see a very substantial difference. She’d chosen leather pants, with heeled boots, but not as long and high as Hwasa had worn the other evening. She’d taken a long, light coat over a white, plain t-shirt which showed just enough cleavage for the place she was heading to. Truthfully, this look still didn’t match the one that that place sported, but she was sure to have a little eyeliner around her eyes. 

So she left her apartment with a little brave smile on her face, eager to feel what she had felt last night, to be in that atmosphere yet again. 

Last night she had the hardest time falling asleep. She didn’t intend to, but she had been replaying Hwasa’s performance in her head, trying to relive those intense emotions. 

The show she had seen had now been imbedded in her mind, the memory forever staying with her, but it was hard to go through those exact highs of awe again on her own.

All of Hwasa’s daring smiling was now like a painting in Wheein’s head. Her charm wasn’t something easily forgotten. 

As she walked into the small street leading to the club, she smiled slightly at the sight of the lively building. Entering, she had been welcomed by the same sight she waited so much to see again. 

This time she didn’t wait, nor did she hesitate when giving the sassy man behind the glass box the paper bill. 

“I take the liberty to assume you had a pleasurable time last evening,” he said, as he cashed the money. 

“More than you think,” Wheein responded, smiling back at him. 

“Have some more, then,” he told her, extending his hand, showing her to the familiar staircase down to where the action was. 

When she sat down at the same spot as the other day, Joon glided over to her swfitly, smiling. “Back again, are we? And dare I say, looking more… spruced-up, perhaps?” 

She chuckled, looking away from him. “So what you’re saying is yesterday I barely got in with my mundane looks?” she asked, as he was already preparing her a drink. 

“Oh, no, nowhere near that. You just look ravishing,” he told her. “I assume you liked it, so I went ahead with the order,” he said after a bit, setting the drink in front of her. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, smiling again. 

He looked at her for a moment, as if deciding whether to ask her something or not. He did, in the end. “She’s been on your mind, hasn’t she?” 

Wheein was sipping from the cocktail, but as she listened to what he asked, she looked up at him. “She has,” she admitted, finding she was feeling no shame or guilt; not even a tinge of fear for growing feelings. 

“She has that effect on people,” he told her. “Well, she’ll be on soon. Get ready.” 

Wheein laughed. “Yeah, well put.” 

He was about to leave to carry on with serving another costumer, but he stopped, turning around to face her again. “Just a minor detail; she told me she likes you,” he said, and without another word he took off, leaving Wheein with questions all for herself. 

Like her like another fan of hers? Like her like a possible friend? Or like her like… _that_? 

Wheein still had her eyes widened as she took a bigger sip from her cocktail, thoughts squirming inside her head. Luckily, a certain someone was about to take her mind off anything and everything. 

The entire room suddenly settled down. Talking seized; people stopped talking and directed their eyes to the stage, where, once again, everything went dark. 

Wheein put her drink down and turned to face the stage. 

As the single, circular white light shined once again, it revealed her in all her allure and grace. 

Hwasa was laying on a white couch, her legs crossed and her head facing the floor above. She was seated in a diagonal, so Wheein could see her clearly now. She was wearing a white corset and the upper side of it, covering her breasts, was of a silver glitter, as was her eye shadow. This time she wore a nude lipstick, but her nails were still the vivid raisin purple. 

This performance would unfold to be quite a different one, but still sharing elements with the one from the other day, elements like Hwasa’s sensuality and passion for her work, the everlasting confidence. This particular number would be of a more mischievous, yet playful nature, showing a different side of Hwasa. Not as much charming, but more tempting. 

The steps were quite the same in essence, but the execution was still everything. Wheein admired how the same elements could be done in several different ways and not induce the tedious feeling of repetition. 

Hwasa’s attitude had changed for this one. It was much more lighthearted, more ambiguous. She bore a flirtatious demeanor, and it was one that truly fit her character. 

Wheein found herself smiling along with Hwasa as she moved her place several times on stage, creating a visual dynamic, putting on another incomparable show. 

Her charm never once flushed. She was a perpetual flame of vigor and thrill. Her wink as she spun around didn’t go unnoticed, her lip bite as her hands ran down her body raised people from their chairs, and even Wheein found herself clutching her fist harder, feeling her nails dig into her skin. But what did that matter? Because Hwasa’s smile as she did all of the above spoke for everything else; that was the passion in her, that represented her and Wheein knew that in that exact moment Hwasa was as true as she could be. Because that was her place, the place where she was most like herself. 

When Hwasa came to a halt, ending up back on her couch, her back arched and her head thrown back, the audience once again stood up and clapped forcefully. It took Wheein a few seconds to get used to the fact that that was it, that the performance was once again over, and she started clapping just as loudly as everyone else in the room. 

She waited as Hwasa bowed to the roaring crown, she waited until she left the stage to turn to Joon and find him smiling at her. 

“I know, right? That’s one of my favorites,” he spoke honestly. “It’s hard to choose, but I’ve had the luck to see them more often.” 

“Lucky you…” Wheein admitted mournfully. 

“She really works as hard as you think. It might seem like it comes easily for her, but there’s still a lot of practice behind,” he pointed out. 

Wheein nodded. “That’s why she’s so good.” 

Wheein purposefully waited until Hwasa came to have her late night drink, at the end of the program. She wanted to see her up close again, to have more of the private chat they shared the other night. 

“Here she comes,” said Joon in an undertone, setting the prepared drink on the bar. 

Wheein smiled and soon she felt that sweet perfume again, together with an easy whisk as Hwasa sat down next to her. 

“Well, good evening to the both of you. Wheein, I’m happy to see you again,” she said, and this time Wheein had the courage to look at her as soon as she sat down. 

She tried smiling at her, but she was busier hiding her blush. Though in that poor lighting, she was sure much of it wasn’t visible. “Evening, Miss Hyejin.” 

_Wow, that was quite bold of you, you ass_ , Wheein thought. 

But Hwasa didn’t seem surprised. She smiled. “I see he’s been feeding you information.” 

“That’s what fans do, they complete each other’s obsessions,” Joon said, making the girls laugh. He left to carry out some business Wheein didn’t quite catch because she had been distracted by the way Hwasa’s nose scrunched when she laughed genuinely. 

As she sipped her cocktail, Hwasa asked, “So, you hanged around to catch me again, have you?” 

Wheein lifted her hands in the air. “Busted!” Hwasa chuckled. “But truthfully, I felt like wanting to talk to you, more than just to congratulate you.” 

Hwasa seemed a bit thrown back. “Not many people do this; most of the time they just want to… get close to me, for you know… personal desires.” 

Wheein frowned, her brow furrowed. “That’s… beyond selfish. That’s just unfair to you. I mean, you get to do what you love most, and people don’t even see it as a passion, they see it as a means to get to you faster to satisfy their own needs.” 

It seemed like she had practiced that entire phrase, but it all came naturally as an angered response to the cruel truth. 

“Exactly!” Hwasa said, her eyes widened, nodding frantically. “Exactly…” she repeated, looking down. 

Wheein didn’t know what else to say. She despised the fact that a person so passionate for her work and so involved would be getting such superficial treatment. 

“But… what did you say earlier?” Hwasa asked, her eyes back on Wheein’s. “You wanted to talk?” It seemed to lift her morale. 

“Oh, it was just… I really admire you, and it goes beyond the fact that you are beautiful and you know how to bring out the best of you. I really admire your technique, the attitude you keep during the entirety of the performance. The stamina you have is truly… amazing.” 

Hwasa smiled, and Wheein could swear on her life that it had been a shy one. Though it seemed impossible, coming from her. 

“That’s actually… important for me to hear. That from my work people don’t just enjoy themselves, they actually get something from it,” she admitted. “You know, it might seem like a perverse style, this whole burlesque concept, but I just think it’s beautiful in its own way. I love everything from the vivid music, to the daring dancing routines and the outfits. This genre is intriguing and it turns out to really suit my personality. When I stepped out for the first time on the stage with a burlesque number, it quite literally changed my life. I had been struggling trying to find a style, something that clicked with me, and I was disappointed I couldn’t agree with anything. And then… the first night I performed the number- coincidentally, the one you just saw- it felt like nothing I’ve experienced before. It was… an amazing ride, a high from which I never came down. It’s been thrilling ever since. And this way, the way this makes me feel… that’s what’s important to me, not that I’ve managed to make an entire crowd excited. Though I must admit, it’s a nice feeling when people like what they see,” she said, chuckling. 

Wheein simply smiled at her. She knew this was it. She knew this was Hwasa. The devotion and intensity with which she performed… it had to have a history behind it. 

“That’s exactly why I admire you, Hwasa. And that’s why you’re so successful in this; because you do what you love. And in this case, that passion of yours can bring down walls,” Wheein told her. 

They looked at each other, both of them appreciating something else in each other. 

But after what seemed like not enough, Hwasa cleared her throat, looking away. She hoped off the high stool from the bar, taking her bag. 

“I have to go now, but we should talk more sometime, Jung Wheein,” she said, lightly brushing Wheein under the chin with her fingers. 

She smiled, distancing herself but keeping eye contact, finally turning and leaving like the previous evening. 

Wheein still felt the ghost of Hwasa’s fingers, barely brushing her skin, and yet leaving something that felt like a burning mark. She bit her lower lip, exhaling. 

_Shit… this won’t end here…_

-.-.-.- 

“I would really like it if you could make it,” a friend of hers told her over the phone the next morning. “Everybody will be here, and your presence would only make it better.” 

Wheein chuckled, but she didn’t know how to answer. This party her friend was throwing was starting at 9, and she really had something else in mind for the following evening. 

“I will come,” she said after thinking a bit, “but do you mind if I only sit for a couple of hours?” 

“Ah, Wheein-ah… what’s so important that you can’t stay for the whole thing?” her friend complained. 

“I just… don’t really feel like partying lately,” she lied and hoped to God her friend would buy it. 

“Fine,” she said at last. “But some time with your friends won’t hurt you, just so you know.” 

_Your friends aren’t automatically mine…_

“See you then,” Wheein said, hanging up shortly after. 

She could barely work throughout the day, mostly thinking about Hwasa. She intruded her thoughts just as rudely as she sometimes acted on stage; and Wheein found herself smiling at the thought of it. 

She rarely fell for people who were of this type; the “bad, naughty girl” rarely attracted her. But Hwasa was different, and she saw it. Though the burlesque style fit her graciously, it didn’t entirely represent her. She saw the way she spoke about her passion. 

Someone who only cared about screwing and making guys hard by bending in corsets wouldn’t speak like that about what they do. They wouldn’t _feel_ what Hwasa felt when they performed. 

_Maybe I will get even more hurt because of that_ , Wheein said to herself sadly, at the thought that Hwasa might not be all that interested in her. 

Shaking her head, she turned her attention to the water on the stove which was starting to boil loudly. 

Surprisingly, the party turned out to be a fun experience, so fun that when she checked her phone at half past 11, she alarmingly realized what she had missed out on. 

Quickly thanking her friend for the great time she had, she stormed out of the house, rushing to get a cab to the fanciful club. 

She texted Joon in hopes he would tell her if Hwasa had performed already, but he didn’t reply. When she entered through the wide doors, she disappointingly realized they were performing the closing number. 

“Damn it…” she said to herself. She opened her purse anyway, meaning to pay. 

The man behind the glass simply smiled at her. “That desperate, aren’t we? What kind of a mistake made you miss out on the performance of the evening?” 

“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” Wheein said, handing him the bill. 

He hesitated for a second. “I think we’ll have to turn you into a regular, by now.” He smiled foxily. “Go on, this time is on me.” 

Wheein smiled in response, almost running down the stairs to her usual seat at the bar. 

“What did you do?” Joon asked, looking slightly disgruntled. 

“I was at this stupid party… anyway, it doesn’t matter. Did I miss it?” 

Joon nodded sadly. “I know this doesn’t help, but… people were in tears. She’d done one of her wistful numbers.” 

“Oh, no, not a sad one…” Wheein looked really beaten down. “Can you at least describe it to me?” 

“She wore this long, yellow dress, her shoulders bare. Her hair was straightened out, leading to an elegant style, not the frenzy she usually enjoys,” he told her and it felt like he was giving her a full-on report of her performance, which helped Wheein nonetheless try to imagine it. “Her make-up was simple, nothing striking. She was standing, singing with a microphone stand. No dancing, just singing. It brought the house down; she was so powerful with her voice and emotions.” 

Wheein dropped her head on the counter, letting out a frustrated grunt. “She must have been gorgeous.” 

“She was… she truly was,” he told her, patting her head lightly. 

The next time they would meet Wheein felt like it had to be somewhat even more private than in the open view for everyone; she wanted to apologize for missing out on what seemed to be another milestone performance. 

She asked Joon where she would exit, so she could wait for her there. It had a certain privacy invasion feeling to it, but she felt like this is how it should be done. 

So not long after the show ended, she exited the building through what he told her was the back exit, used only by staff. She waited for some time until Hwasa finally appeared through the door, but it gave her time to think about what to tell her. 

She was leaning against the wall near the door, when it opened and Hwasa came through it, her bag in her hand. That nude make-up Joon was talking about was still on, and her hair seemed to be in the same way it had been arranged for the stage appearance. 

“Wheein-ah… hello. I must admit, I was kind of sad when I didn’t see you there,” Hwasa said before Wheein could even open her mouth. Her words might have indicated she was saddened Wheein's absence, but she smiled. 

“I’m so sorry I missed it, Hwasa. I heard it was fantastic, yet again,” Wheein said, detaching herself from the wall. Hwasa remained in front of her, half a meter between them. 

“Well, that’s what I would’ve asked you… but don’t worry. I think... you’ll have many more opportunities to see me… won’t you?” she asked, and she stepped closer. 

Wheein’s heart was pounding yet again. Hwasa was even more beautiful up-close. Her perfume was stronger than ever, and her smile was of a completely different nature, unlike any of the rest Wheein caught. 

What made it all hard for Wheein to breathe were Hwasa’s eyes, intimidating, yet inviting all over again. 

“I really wish I’d seen what you showed everyone tonight,” Wheein said, discovering her voice dropped to a lower volume. 

“Well, I have something better that I would like to show only you,” she told her, her face inches away from Wheein’s. 

This no longer felt like privacy invasion. This felt like the attraction Wheein felt in her first evening in this place, drawing her closer to Hwasa until there was no more space left to fill. 

Hwasa reached to pull Wheein’s face with her hand, kissing her as confidently and as securely as she performed. 

You’d think Wheein would feel intimidated, kissed by someone as imposing as Hwasa was, but as they kissed, she felt one and the same with her, she felt like something specific was tying them together. 

When she pulled away, Wheein was left with the same unpleasant feeling of incompleteness, leaving her aching for more. 

“What do they say when you enter ‘Burlesque’? There is much more you’ll want to see?” Hwasa asked, reaching for Wheein’s hand, pulling her after her. 

Wheein smiled, still numb, in response to Hwasa’s defiant smirk. 

Feeling the soft hand intertwined with her own, she believed that feeling of shortcoming might vanish away soon, bit by bit, each experience stronger than the other. 


End file.
